Part 2 (1/2)

”What might you mean by that?” asked the newcomer, with some asperity.

”That ain't no form of salutation ever I heard yet. Haven't you a civil tongue to use, old gentleman? You're ancient enough to have learned manners, if you'll excuse me sayin' so.”

The old man snarled again. ”I'm stone deef!” he said. ”I don't hear nothin' you say, nor yet I don't want to hear. You needn't waste no time, fur as I'm concerned.”

”Stone deef, be you?” returned the pedlar. ”Well, that has its compensations, too. You wouldn't buy anything if you had the hearin'

of ten, and now I can have the pleasure of tellin' you what I think of you. You skinny, starved old weasel, you're about the wickedest-lookin' piece I ever set eyes on. Real old screw, you are, if ever I saw one. Pity your folks, if you've got any; more likely you've starved 'em all off, though, and are skeered of dyin' yourself, fear of havin' another funeral to pay for. The Lord leaves folks like you for a warnin' to others, understand?--set up, kind of, to show how ugly a critter can be when he tries. Oh, you needn't snarl at me. I'm enjoyin' myself real well, I tell you. There's other ways to have a good time besides sellin', if it is my trade. Guess I'll set down a spell, uncle, sence you _are_ so pressin'.”

Uncle Pinker was almost foaming with rage by this time. He could hear no distinct words, but the insulting nature of the stranger's speech was evident from look and gesture. He was just wondering whether his strength would suffice to throw himself on the intruder, when a new figure appeared on the scene,--Narcissa, who had been busy in the back kitchen, and catching some high note of the stranger's scornful speech, now came hurrying out to see what was the matter.

She found Uncle Pinker quivering in his chair, his lean, veined hands clutching the arms, his little red eyes starting from his head with impotent fury; and sitting on the doorstep, looking up into his face with a smile of calm amus.e.m.e.nt, was the strangest figure Narcissa had ever seen.

A person of middle age, with strongly marked features, and a countenance of keen intelligence, but dressed in a singular manner. A suit of brown cloth, rather worn, but well-brushed and neat; loose trousers, and an odd, long-skirted coat, reaching to the knees, both coat and trousers trimmed with rows of narrow black-velvet ribbon. The person's hair was cropped short; the person's head was surmounted by a curious structure, half cap, half helmet, like that worn by Miss Deborah in ”Cranford,” only of far humbler materials. Beside the person, on the doorstep, lay a bag, of the kind affected by pedlars, lank and s.h.i.+ny, and particularly unattractive in appearance.

Such was the individual at whom Narcissa White was now staring with eyes very wide open, her stare being returned by a quizzical gaze, half smiling, and wholly shrewd and observant.

”Mornin', young lady,” said the strong, clear voice. ”Wonderin' what I be, are ye? fish or flesh, or red herrin', or what, hey? Well, I'll put you out of your misery. I'm a woman, that's what I am; the folks calls me Bloomer Joe. Now, then, do you want to buy anything of me?”

Here her tone changed, and her voice rose and fell in a kind of chant, dwelling with dramatic emphasis on a telling phrase here and there.

”Buy any lace, threads, or needles, pins--_or_--essences? Here's a looking-gla.s.s to see your face in--prettiest face I've seen along the road! (I tell that to every girl I see, and most of 'em believe it; but you ain't that kind, so you shall have the joke instead.) Real celluloid ivory combs, fit for the President's wife, sure enough. Gold beads, stockin'-supporters, teeth-brushes,--_and_--stickin'-plaster.”

Here she dropped back into a conversational tone, opening her bag as she did so, and drawing forth some of its treasures.

”Just look at this lace, young lady! strong enough to hang yourself with, if you was feelin' that way, or to hang the old gentleman here, if you was feelin' another. I know which way I'd feel, quick enough.

Not your father, is he?” she added, seeing a look of distress in Narcissa's eyes.

”Oh, no,” said Narcissa, speaking for the first time. ”But--he's my uncle,--at least, my father's uncle; and I--guess you'd better not talk so, please.”

”All right,” said the stranger. ”I won't, not if it is any trouble to you. It would be meat and potatoes and apple-pie for me, if he was my uncle, to hear him get his rights for once in a way; but I see you're one of the soft-hearted ones. Want any salve? Here's a kind that will cure corns, bunions, rheumatism, croup, sore-throat, backache, horse-ail, and colic; cure most anything except a broken heart, and won't do a mite of harm to that. But you don't need any salve, and the old gentleman, he's past it. Well, then, here's ribbons, all colors of the rainbow,--red, yeller, blue, see? handsome they are, and cheap as good counsel. Aha! you'd like to see them, hey?”

Narcissa had indeed changed color at sight of the bright ribbons, and she now gave an anxious glance at Uncle Pinker, who was still fuming and snorting in his chair.

”You, Narcissy White, send this critter away, can't ye?” he snarled; ”or else go into the house yourself, and go to work, not stand foolin'

here, with the work all on the floor. Go 'long, d' ye hear? This woman, or feller, or whatever she calls herself, can talk till she's hoa.r.s.e; she won't hurt me, nor she won't get nothin' out of me.”

”Could I get a drink of water, do you s'pose?” the pedlar asked quietly, paying no attention to the angry old man. ”Needn't trouble to bring it out; I'll go right into the house with you, if you've no objections.”

She followed Narcissa into the house before the latter could make any remonstrance, and shut the door after her.

”He don't reelly disturb me,” she said, ”not a mite; but we can trade better in here. Let me try some of the ribbons on your hair. I don't often see such hair as this on my tramps, and that's no compliment, but the plain truth.”

”Oh!” cried Narcissa, in distress. ”You're real kind, but please don't. I haven't got any money to buy things with, and I couldn't take your time for nothing. They are handsome, ain't they? Oh, that yellow is just elegant, isn't it? It's like the b.u.t.tons; I mean like the tansy blossoms. I thank you for showin' them to me, I'm sure, but it ain't any use for you to.”

”Don't he pay you for workin' here?” asked the pedlar, with a sharp glance.

”Yes, he does pay me,” Narcissa answered,--”a dollar and a half a week. But--but I don't get it very reg'lar, sometimes, and I'm saving up to buy me a dress. I need one bad, to wear to meetin'.”

The pedlar frowned. It was against her principles to leave any house where she knew there was money, without selling at least a box of salve; but this seemed a hard case.

”A dollar and a half a week!” she muttered scornfully. ”The old caraway seed! he'd better go and live in Rome, and be done with it.